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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27387904">His King's Command</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/residentevilxisuma/pseuds/residentevilxisuma'>residentevilxisuma</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Crown AU [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hermitcraft</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Conditioning, Dubcon Kissing, Gen, M/M, Master/Pet Dynamics, dubcon touching, hc crown au, mindfuckery</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:20:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>946</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27387904</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/residentevilxisuma/pseuds/residentevilxisuma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Consort belongs to the Oracle for a night, and the Oracle delivers unto him a prophesy.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Joe Hills/Evil X</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Crown AU [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2000731</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>His King's Command</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Consort sits before the Oracle, mirroring his pose on the floor of his chambers; legs crossed, back straight, hands folded neatly in his lap. He keeps his eyes on the Oracle's face for a time, as was polite, but the blindfold the Oracle wears obscures his eyes, gives the Consort nothing to focus on, and eventually he allows his attention to drift. He examines the silk hangings around the cushions they occupied, the low tables with burning incense and colorful crystals just beyond that. He watches the smoke curl into lazy spirals and wonders how much of it all made a difference for the Oracle's Sight and how much of it was bullshit.</p><p><em> Nonsense</em>, how much of it was <em> nonsense</em>. It was unbecoming for someone of his status to use such vulgar language, even in the privacy of his own thoughts. Before he can chastise himself further he hears the Oracle taking a deep breath, and turns his attention back where it belongs as the other speaks, his voice low and raspy. "Why are you here?"</p><p>"I'm here because my King commands it," The Consort replies. It was a well-rehearsed response, one that had been trained into him by his King quickly and forcefully. He did not do things unless his King commanded it. The answer satisfied most everyone in the castle, save for perhaps the Courtesan. Save for the Oracle, now, too.</p><p>"<em>Why </em> are you here?" He repeats.</p><p>This gives the Consort pause. He thinks about why his King ordered him here in the first place. The King had not said, and it was not the Consort's place to question his King's orders, but there was only ever one reason his King would have him meet alone in the bedchambers of one of his court.</p><p>"I am... here for your entertainment. Your pleasure. Use me however you see fit, for the night. That is my King's will for me." The Consort says. </p><p>The Oracle grunts, as if dissatisfied with the Consort's revised answer, and he bites his tongue against speaking further. Tonight, he belonged to the Oracle. Speaking out of turn would not do. </p><p>"Show me then," The Oracle says, and just like that the Consort is moving, leaning across the space between himself and the Oracle until their lips are pressed together, the Consort taking care not to touch the Oracle otherwise. He was not meant to lead this exchange. The tight knot of anxiety in his belly loosens when the Oracle pushes forward to deepen the kiss, puts his hands on the Consort's shoulders and pushes him down upon the cushions. </p><p>His weight settles over the Consort's hips, the pressure featherlight compared to his King and Queen's own. He feels the Oracle's fingers wander from his shoulders down his collarbones, down his chest, and finally allows his own to find their way to the Oracle's body, on his stomach, his hips, his thighs. He feels the Oracle shudder at his touch and drags his nails back up to the other's hips again as the Oracle's nails rake down to his belly. He gasps and the Oracle takes that moment to trail kisses across the Consort's cheekbone until his lips are against his ear.</p><p>"Why are <em> you </em> here, Evil Xisuma?" The Oracle whispers, and the Consort freezes, every muscle tense as if preparing for some punishment. </p><p>"What—?" he chokes out. He feels tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, and he doesn't know why. </p><p>"Why are you here, Evil Xisuma?" The Oracle says again. "Why are <em> you </em> here, in my bedchamber, where the King has ordered you to be? What brought you here? What force compelled you to listen to your King?"</p><p>"I—" the Consort lets out a small cry. "I'm here... because my King commands it."</p><p>The Oracle sits up, his face angled down towards the Consort where he lays, and the Consort imagines the Oracle's eyes behind his blindfold, boring so deeply into him he feels more tears springing to the surface, dripping unevenly down his face into his hair and onto the cushions below.</p><p>"Your King commands it..." the Oracle murmurs in quiet judgment.</p><p>"I'm a good boy," the Consort gasps out desperately. He doesn't understand what game the Oracle is playing at, but he wishes for nothing more than for him to stop. His head is filled with traitorous whisperings and he squeezes his eyes shut against them. "Please..."</p><p>"Do you know what the job of an Oracle is, Evil Xisuma?" The Oracle asks.</p><p>"You advise the king," the Consort replies, an answer he might have once felt confident giving. "Divine wisdom. Prophesy. To aid him in his conquest."</p><p>"That is correct," the Oracle responds, and the Consort feels himself finally relaxing. "But it is not just the King that I can provide my divine wisdom to."</p><p>The Consort's breath catches in his throat. The silence between them seems to stretch infinitely. The Oracle's weight on his hips feels like a heavy stone. The Oracle leans forward again until his face is mere inches away from the Consort's own, until his weight feels light again.</p><p>"Do you want to hear the wisdom I have for you, Evil Xisuma?"</p><p>The Consort can't breathe. He can't speak. He has no idea how to respond. He has no idea how to react. It's a simple choice, yes or no, but therein lies his problem. It was a choice. He realizes all at once that he can't recall the last time he'd ever been given a choice. </p><p>He nods minutely before remembering the Oracle's blindfold and swallows hard against his nerves. He takes a deep breath. Carefully, quietly, Evil Xisuma responds. "Yes."</p>
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